


Open Wounds

by Bookwrm389



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwrm389/pseuds/Bookwrm389
Summary: After being assaulted by one of her customers, Winry looks for an outlet by calling Ed in East City. But how much comfort can he possibly offer when there is so much distance between them?





	Open Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net

At first Winry was so outraged that she literally couldn't feel anything else. That jerk, that bastard, that absolute  _sleazebag!_  How dare he put her in a position like that? How  _dare_ he take advantage of her trust to try and get his way? Worst of all, the things he had  _said_  before he walked out the door of the shop for the last time, wrenching the door closed with an automail arm that  _she_  had made for him.

Maybe that was partly why Winry was so livid with the whole situation. The man who had done this to her had once held the title of one of her favorite customers. Or at least one of the most likeable. Winry worked so  _hard_  to establish strong, healthy relationships with her patients in Rush Valley. Months of rehabilitation and regular checkups meant they forged a far more personal connection than just mechanic and customer. She was their doctor, therapist, and friend all rolled into one. And Winry wouldn't have it any other way. You didn't just go to  _any_ mechanic when your automail was acting up, you went to someone who knew exactly what you needed and why you needed it because they had been there all along.

This particular customer had been coming to her for nearly a month now. He had already gone through surgery to install the port years before and had only needed to be fitted with a new arm to replace an older model. He had been so  _friendly_ , so eager to talk to her. Always on time for his appointments, always listening to every word she said, always smiling and laughing. Hours had passed them by while she toiled over his right arm, building it, installing it, adjusting it according to his gentle, but firm requests.

Today had been his last appointment. Winry never thought for a second she would be glad to see the last of him.

_Okay, I think you're all set. You'll just need a tune-up every three months, so remember the Rockbell name when that time comes!_

_Sure, absolutely. But before I go, Winry, I want to talk to you. Mind if I shut the door?_

"Yes, this is Colonel Mustang."

Winry leaned forward and cradled her head in her free hand, sucking on her lower lip where it had been split open by a collision with her worktable. She should probably put ice on it. That was what her parents had always done whenever Winry came home with bruises and split lips from playing with Ed and Al at the river or the corn field or the train yard. Even after all these years she could  _still_ hear her mother scolding her.

_Don't suck on your lip, sweetie. You're making it bleed more. Let it scab over, let it heal…_

"Mr. Mustang, sir," Winry said into the receiver. Her voice sounded so frail, even to her ears. "This is Winry Rockbell. Edward Elric's mechanic?"

"Miss Rockbell?" Mustang repeated, sounding a little taken aback. "How may I help you?"

"Can you tell me how to get in contact with Ed? Please?"

Winry didn't bother to elaborate. If she tried to get another word out, she would just start sobbing again. How could this happen? How could her mood plummet so quickly? She had been just  _fine_  a little while ago! Angry, but fine! After sending that creep on his way with bruised pride and a bloody nose she had locked herself up in her workshop for nearly two hours, cursing and ranting and fuming, throwing herself into her work in a frenzy with only the occasional break to chuck a tool at the wall. At the time Winry had fully believed that wrath was the only emotion she would ever feel again.

But all too soon her rage had burnt itself out. That, and she ran out of projectiles. She had stood right there in the center of her workroom with her hands balled into fists, shaking from head to foot with the intensity of her fury...

 _I need it to be slightly stronger than normal. Can you do that for me, Winry? My job's pretty_ physical _, you know?_

...and in the space of two breaths she had slipped to her knees and dissolved into tears.

"You're in luck, Miss Rockbell," Mustang told her. "Fullmetal's actually in East City right now, at the military dorms. I can connect your call from here. They have people watching the phone around the clock, so don't worry about the late hour."

"T-Thank you," Winry murmured, turning to look out her bedroom window in shock. The single lamp on her bedside table had held the night at bay, but now she could see that most of the city had gone pitch black. And in East City it was probably even later. In the back of her mind Winry knew she should be closing up the store for the night and straightening up the mess in her workshop and perhaps worrying over the fact that Mr. Garfiel was running late from his trip into town and a million other everyday things that just shouldn't be  _important_ right now. Couldn't the world hold still for  _two seconds_  until she had dealt with this and was ready to move on?

"Miss Rockbell..."

Winry blinked and shook herself a little, coming back to reality in time to realize Ed's superior was still speaking.

"Are you alright, Miss Rockbell? Your voice sounds..."

Winry shrank in on herself at the fatherly concern in his voice, so like her Dad's that it hurt to hear. She sucked in a breath, ready to blabber out a whole host of lies and assurances, but the cheery words just wouldn't come. It was like there was an impassable barrier between her and the joyful Winry of two hours ago. One built on the memory of hard automail fingers— _her automail!_ —closing around her arm like a vice and a pair of calloused lips pressed to hers, forceful, demanding...

"Never mind," Mustang said brusquely. "It's not my business. I'll patch you through. I don't know if Ed will be awake at this time of night, but if you really need him then tell whoever answers that your call is urgent and they'll get him up."

"Okay, thank you," Winry said automatically while the part of her mind that wasn't bogged down in misery froze at the wording.  _If you really need him..._

She scooted back a little further on her bed so she could brace her back against the headboard, cradling the phone with both hands as a series of clicks told her she was being patched through to the military dorms. To  _Ed_. Winry's relief at knowing she could soon talk to him was so palpable that it threatened to make her cry again. And she  _could_   _not_ be crying when she spoke to him, or else he would stop at nothing to find out the  _reason_ she was crying, and then Winry didn't think she would be able to look him in the eye ever again.

"Yes, I'd like to speak with Edward Elric, please…Winry Rockbell…yes, tell him it's urgent…"

How could she have been so  _stupid?_  It wasn't like her customer had made a secret out of his interest, but Winry had done her level best to politely brush off his compliments and move on to other topics. If he leaned in to touch her arm or her hand, she would move away and busy herself with the automail or her tools. He should have taken the hint! What could she have possibly  _done_ to lead him on?

Winry's throat went tight at a sudden memory of two hands, steel and flesh, braced on either side of her hips, pinning her to the worktable behind her.

_Don't go shy on me now, Winry..._

Smooth, seductive,  _hungry_ words pouring in her ear and making her heart turn to ice. Too close, he was too  _close_.

 _You're practically begging_   _for it..._

" _All right, I'm coming!_ "

The phone changed hands, and a familiar huff of exasperation reached her from halfway across the country. "Jeez, Winry, it's practically midnight here! What's so important that you had to call now?"

Winry couldn't answer at first. He sounded so...normal. It was such a silly thing to think, but she couldn't let go of the vast differences between  _his_ voice and Ed's. Ed always spoke to her so harshly, spitting out the two syllables of her name like shards of glass. At times it was enough to make Winry hate her name. Maybe that was partly why she had so liked her customer.  _He_  had always made her name sound like a song, softening it, drawing it out, like he was savoring the taste of it. Ed never said her name like that.

_But Ed never tried to feel you up in your own workshop, did he? He never hits you, never belittles you, never, never, never..._

"Winry, you there? I'm hanging up if you're not."

Winry choked a little, though the laugh sounded more like a sob, and wrapped an arm around her aching stomach. For once it felt so  _good_ to hear him be his usual, rough-around-the-edges self. So much so that she was tempted to hang up without saying a word and leave him oblivious.  _Someone_ ought to go to bed without nightmares tonight.

"Winry?"

An edge of worry had crept into Ed's voice. It was too late to hang up now anyway. A tear inched over her cheek, trickling down the side of her neck, and she swiped at it quickly before bullying her vocal chords into action.

"...hey, Ed."

The words were barely above a whisper, and they shook with an emotion that Winry couldn't name. She hunched over a little, wishing she could take them back as paranoia ran rampant. He  _knew_ now. How could he not? He knew  _exactly_  what had happened and how and why it happened, and any minute now he was going to go off about how stupid and naïve and ignorant she was, and how could she lavish so much time and energy constructing automail for  _him_ when Ed was the one who deserved her attention more?

More tears joined the first. Winry sucked on her lip to keep any blood from dripping on the mouthpiece of the phone. God, she was such an  _idiot_...

"W-Winry," Ed faltered. "Are you  _crying?_  What's wrong?"

"I'm—"

Winry hesitated. What now? The very last thing she wanted to do was tell him what happened, make him privy to every sordid detail. It was just...too much. But she had never been a good liar to begin with, and any reassuring platitude she tossed out _now_ would be worthless.

"Hey,  _say_  something!" Ed snapped. "Are you okay?"

"I guess," Winry said dully. "Maybe...no, not really."

"What happened? Is it Granny?"

"No, i-it's nothing like that."

"Then  _what?_ "

She flinched at the stark insensitivity to his words, and a tiny spark of irritation flared up. It was truly astounding how Ed could be so abrasive even at a time like this. As if her tears and emotional turmoil were more of a hindrance to him than something to really be concerned about. The more Winry thought about it the more she hated that side of him. Would it  _kill_ him to show a little compassion? He should  _know_  it wasn't like her to call in the middle of the night just to get a little attention!

_Get away from me! I didn't say you could touch me!_

_Could've fooled me the way you've been acting all month. Skipping around in that little mechanic's getup, putting your hands all over me...you're just a little attention-grabber, aren't you?_

Winry clapped a hand over her mouth when those words came back to her, along with a fresh wave of horror and indignation. No, no,  _no_ , she wasn't like that! She was  _not_ one of those girls who put themselves on display for every young man within seeing distance. She  _wasn't!_  And did it  _ever_  occur to him that her form-fitting outfits were the only thing guaranteed not to get caught on moving parts while she worked? What gave  _him_ the right to judge how she dressed, how she acted—!

 _You're practically begging_   _for it..._

" _Are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?_ "

Winry shook her head fiercely. She would  _not_ be that girl. Not  _ever._

"I-I can't tell you. I  _can't_. I...never mind. I'm sorry."

For a few heartbeats she heard only silence from the other end of the line. By all rights now would have been the time to hang up, but Winry just couldn't bring herself to put the phone down. Hanging up on Ed would just be too...permanent. The last thing their friendship needed was more distance than there already was, and Winry knew how insecure Ed was when it came to people. If she didn't actively work to keep their connection alive, it was only too likely to sever and blow away with barely a whisper.

So she stayed on the line, pressing the phone to her ear in a futile attempt to get closer to her dear friend.

"Let me get this straight," Ed said slowly, dangerously. "You call me in the middle of the night,  _crying_ , only to turn around and say that you can't tell me why you called? Like  _hell_ you can't tell me!"

Winry wiped her nose with the back of her hand, only stopping herself from sniffling through sheer force of will. "I shouldn't have called you like this, out of the blue," she said more strongly. "I wasn't really thinking, and...and it's my problem anyway, so I should deal with it on my own."

"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have called in the first place!" Ed informed her sardonically. "I—ugh, hold on a sec, Winry. And don't you hang up!"

Ed's voice grew more distant and muffled, like he was talking to someone. Winry didn't have to wait long before she heard a door close, shutting out most of the background noise. "Okay, sorry. Those damn soldiers were  _shushing_ me. If they didn't want to be bothered they should have hooked the phone up in a more private place."

"Oh, I-I didn't realize," Winry stammered, seizing on the excuse. "I mean, it  _is_  pretty late, so maybe I should just..."

"It's fine. I'm in the broom closet now. Phone cord's just barely long enough."

That surprised a grin out of Winry, and she winced when the motion tugged on her swollen bottom lip. That was so like Ed. She could picture him doing just that to avoid being bothered. Winry listened to him shifting around in what sounded like a very small space, cursing when something banged into the wall and eventually settling down with a grunt.

"Now," Ed said in a clipped tone. "Start talking. What's got you so upset?"

Even though Winry had been half-expecting it the question still paralyzed her. A very needy part of her wanted to break down and tell him everything, but the thought of recounting the exact events leading up to the actual attack was overwhelming. She wouldn't even know where to start,  _how_ to start...

"Oookay...let's try another question. How are you now? I mean, like,  _right_ now. You're not in danger or anything?"

 _That_ was a strange question. "No. Not...not now _,_  anyway."

"But you were before?" Ed asked sharply.

"No!" Winry said quickly. "I mean...Ed, I already told you—"

"—that you don't want to talk about it, yeah, I know," Ed said edgily. "Just answer my questions, alright?"

Winry rubbed her forehead, so infuriated by his persistence that her depression was quickly becoming a memory. What had she been  _thinking_ , calling him like this? What did she hope to gain from this? Ed had enough on his plate dealing with the military and trying to make things right with Al. Her issues were barely a blip on the radar compared to that. Winry could hardly expect him to drop everything and hop on a train to Rush Valley just to hold her hand.

Not that she would be the first thing on his mind anyway, Winry thought bitterly. No, Ed was more likely to sprint right past her and charge off to do something noble and righteous and, ultimately, violent. Like personally maim the one responsible. Not that it would necessarily be a  _bad_ thing, but Winry was long past the point where thoughts like that gave her any satisfaction.

And once he had cleaned that bastard's blood of his hands Ed would just sweep right back out to the open road again, trusting her and her tears to sort themselves out...

"Winry, are you still there? Did someone threaten you? Did you—?"

"What does it even  _matter?_ " Winry cried, silencing him. "Even if I tell you what happened, what do you plan to  _do_ about it, huh Ed? You're in East City, I'm here! Do you think you can protect me from two hundred miles away?  _Well?_  We might as well face it, Ed! We don't have any impact on each other's lives anymore, so don't even bother pretending to care about what happens to me!"

Ed spluttered a bit at her outburst. "Don't have any  _impact?_  What makes you think I won't be affected if something happens to you, you damn machine freak!"

" _You have more important things to worry about now!_ "

She heard Ed inhale sharply at her words. Winry let herself slip further down the bed until she could curl up on her side, hating herself for voicing the words and knowing every one of them was true.

"You can't afford to worry about me, Ed," Winry choked, covering her eyes with her hand. "Not when you spent all that time getting back on your feet to help Al. I'm...God, I'm so  _selfish_. I tried so  _hard_ to help you two and not get in your way when you left, a-and...and now here I am wishing you were here when I  _shouldn't_  be wishing that, and...I just..."

Winry cut herself off. "I'm hanging up now. Goodbye, Ed."

"Winry," Ed said softly. "Wanting to be with someone isn't selfish. It's human."

All of a sudden Winry forgot all about hanging up.

"Do you get it?" Ed said more urgently. "You're only  _human_. That means you can't always deal with everything that comes your way. And when you can't...then it's okay to call your friends in the middle of the night. It's  _always_ okay, even if you think it's too trivial to talk about, even if I can't do anything about it. I have ears, don't I? I can listen."

The sound of a door creaking open. " _Aw, Brother, that's so sweet!_ "

"What the— _Al!_  What the  _crap_  do you think you're doing?"

" _I was looking for you, and they said you were in here. Is that Winry? Hi, Winry!_ "

"Go back to the dorm! I'll be there in a couple minutes."

" _Mr. Elric, sir..._ "

"What  _now?_  Can't a guy have a private conversation around here?"

" _I must ask you to end your call soon, Mr. Elric. That line is meant for public use._ "

"I  _am_  the public, and I'll talk as long as I want!"

" _Brother, there ARE other people in this building._ "

"I'M GONNA TRANSMUTE THIS DOOR INTO A WALL IF I DON'T GET SOME DAMN PRIVACY!"

By the time Ed got everyone to leave him alone Winry had to bury her face in the pillow to keep from cracking up. She was pretty sure half of her reaction was flat out hysteria, but she honestly could have cared less. Ed was right _._  He was so  _right._  How many times had Winry found herself convincing him that he just wasn't strong enough to handle everything on his own?

And now Ed was doing for her what she had done for him and Al so many times. No matter how many times she asked him, Ed never confided in her about their journey, never told her exactly what he had seen and done in service to the State. And, yes, it was hard to be held at arm's length and never know what they were getting into. But it was  _okay._  Because Ed and Al still relied on her in their own way. They needed her to simply  _be_ there.

So Winry made sure she was always there to welcome them home. She fixed them up, she fed them, she talked and laughed with them. And when the time came she let them go again. That was what you did for your friends. You gave them exactly what they needed, and nothing more.

"Winry, you there?"

"Yeah, Ed," Winry said after a moment, still smiling to herself.

"Sorry about that," Ed said sheepishly. "Never knew the world could be so nosy— _Alphonse, you eavesdropping little punk! Get out of here!_ "

Al yelped from somewhere nearby, and his clanking armor receded. Winry had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing at the litany of curses spewing from Ed's mouth hundreds of miles away.

"So are you going to be okay?" Ed said at last.

Winry pushed herself upright with one arm and crossed her legs beneath her, touching the bruise on her upper arm where the automail fingers had left four purplish bruises. That and her lip were the worst of her injuries, which really wasn't bad compared to the fights she had gotten in as a child. She hadn't been violated, had at least stopped him from getting that far. It had been the words that really cut her, but just talking to Ed had been enough to remind her that they weren't true. That was all Winry had really needed. She was strong enough to handle the rest.

"Yeah," Winry said finally, and this time she meant it. "I'll be okay. Thanks, Ed. I feel a lot better now. This was...just what I needed."

"And you're still not going to tell me what happened?"

She cracked another smile. They were coming a lot easier now. "Not today," she said loftily. "Some other time, maybe."

Ed grumbled a little under his breath, but eventually just sighed. "Fine. I guess I can live with that."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Winry could sense that the time was coming for them to hang up, but she didn't want to just yet. This was...nice. She really couldn't understand why Ed didn't call more often. This conversation hadn't been  _all_ bad.

"Hey, uh," Ed said awkwardly. "Look, Al and I are going off tomorrow on another lead. But...well, Rush Valley isn't exactly  _on_ the way, but maybe we could stop in for a couple hours. You know, grab a bite to eat or something..."

Winry's smile slipped a little. "Ed, you don't have to do that. I know you guys are busy, you shouldn't take a detour just for my benefit."

"It's not for you!" Ed said hastily. "I-I mean, it's...it's my automail! Yeah, my automail's acting up, so I need an appointment."

"Oh,  _do_  you?" Winry said dryly, going along with his flimsy excuse. "And just how is it acting up, Edward?"

"My wrist. It's twitching."

"Twitching?"

"Yes,  _twitching_."

"Is that all?" Winry said in feigned disappointment. "Doesn't sound like  _that_  big a deal..."

"My ankle too!" Ed exclaimed dramatically. "And I think it's spreading! For all you know this could be a brand new disease only pertaining to people with automail! I could die of twitching spasms if you don't do something about it!"

Winry snorted. "Twitching spasms, Ed?  _Really?_ "

"Do I get an appointment or not?" Ed whined. "Look, I know how you like to tinker with my automail—"

"Okay, okay," Winry chuckled. "You've got an appointment. So I should expect you, what, three months from now?"

"Ha, ha. Oh, and Winry?"

"Yeah?"

"Put some ice on that lip. I can hear that thing flapping all the way in East City."

Winry automatically covered her lip with her fingers, aghast. She had hoped Ed wouldn't guess that she was hurt physically, but now it wouldn't take much of a leap for him to deduce she had been attacked by someone. Perhaps he would even realize  _why_ she had been attacked, and then he would want to know  _who_ , and she just couldn't  _tell_ him yet—!

"Winry," Ed said roughly. "I just need to know one thing."

Winry nodded weakly, too nervous for anything else, and waited for his questions with her heart in her throat.

"Did you give as good as you got?"

An image of her ex-customer stalking out the door flashed before her eyes, blood spurting from his nose and splashing all over his shirt while the people in the street looked on in astonishment. Winry allowed herself a wolfish grin at the memory. "You bet I did."

There was no mistaking the predatory quality to Ed's voice when he spoke. "Good. I'd hate to be late for my appointment just because I had to go bash some skulls in."

"I'll see you when you get here?" Winry asked quietly.

"Yeah," Ed replied with a warmth that made her heart ache. "Now get some sleep, you damn gearhead."

"You too...alchemy freak."

Winry took the phone away from her ear and gently set it in its cradle, running her fingers over it tenderly. Then she got up and went downstairs to lock up the store for the night and put together an ice pack. The messy workshop would be dealt with tomorrow, and Mr. Garfiel had probably gotten held up talking to one of the other engineers and didn't even realize how late it was. But he had a key anyway, so he would let himself in later tonight or tomorrow.

The little everyday things taken care of, Winry trudged back upstairs. She changed into her sleeping clothes, washed her face and crawled into bed, wincing when she put the ice to her lip. It hurt at first, hurt a  _lot,_  but the constant contact with the ice was soothing, and it wasn't all that long before her lip was completely numb. The ice didn't even feel cold anymore.

In fact, if Winry let her mind go enough, she could almost imagine it to be an automail thumb brushing over her lower lip, gentle,  _loving_...

_Wanting to be with someone isn't selfish. It's human._

"Then let me be human," Winry sighed into her pillow. "Just for a little while..."


End file.
